La Resistance du Ciel Nocturne
by nightmarethefirst
Summary: She was born of a demon and a slayer, not supposed to be anything. She was raised with love, but she has no memory of her past. The night defies the sun its' warm glow, as does her resistance from current love and understanding.
1. Prologue

La Resistance du Ciel Nocturne

"The Resistance of the Night Sky"

Prologue

The scent of homemade baked apple pie filled her young senses as she sat and watched the tall lady with golden-red hair cut into the crisp apple pie on the table. The apartment was warm and cozy, due to the furnace kicking on and the oven being set to four hundred degrees for nearly five hours, baking pies, cookies, and a honey glaze spiral ham. It felt nice being warm and toasty after playing outside in the frigid air all day. Despite the lack of snow and the abundance of muddy slush on the sidewalks, winter was turning out to be a wonderland of excitement and adventure after all.

"What's it for?" the little girl with brown hair, tied with green ribbon in two neat braids, asked curiously. The red head turned and smiled at the little girl. She sighed softly and set down the large carving knife that was two sizes bigger than her hand, carefully placing it out of reach of the little girl.

"Your mom and dad are coming home for our trip. You want to celebrate with them, don't you?" The little girl smiled and nodded vigorously.

"Of course! And when mommy and daddy get here, we're going to see Grandpa! Then, I can show mommy the necklace I made out of the seashells we got from the beach, and I can tell daddy all about the demon we fought!" The red head paled a little at the thought of her niece telling her best friend's husband about their demon fighting. But, the little girl beamed, oblivious to her aunt's anxiety. Tthe red head smiled and patted the girl lovingly on the head, thinking how time flew so quickly.

When Keira had been born, it was a shock to everyone, but none more so than her parents, who hadn't thought it was possible. Unfortunately, her parents were constantly hauled up in London or traveling around the world, and couldn't always take care of their daughter, though they treasured every moment they had with her. That was where Willow, and Keira's extended family, came in; Willow and Kennedy took charge and were her parental figures more than ninety percent of the time during her real parents' absence. Her other relatives took her when Willow or Kennedy were both too busy or away from home and not able to take Keira along. She may have grown up thrown around from relative to relative, but she was a completely spoiled and loved little girl.

Just yesterday, Keira had been a baby, or it felt like she had been. Now, she was nearing the age of six. Still so young, still so innocent. Despite all the majority of her lifespan spent with relatives, Willow could see just how much she was turning out like her parents. What was a relief it was that she seemed to have only their best attributes, not their bad. It was a 'so far so good' situation, and Willow didn't want to think about her little niece gaining the darker side to either of her parents' colorful personalities.

Still, she was growing up, and Willow did not like it one bit.

The red head frowned and went back to packing the cooler on the marble counter of the small apartment she and Kennedy had rented almost two months ago.

It wasn't an especially fancy apartment, but it wasn't cheap either. Willow—having babysitting duty half the time, worked at the local library sorting through books and helping customers. Kennedy had two jobs, four if you counted her college classes she took nightly and her constant trips to England to check on the slayers in training and her replacement for defensive teacher. Despite Willow constantly trying to convince Kennedy that they were doing fine in England, she was always on edge about it, making some excuse that later Willow would find out was just that—an excuse. Other than her crazed trips and college courses, Kennedy worked as an assistant to a local fashion guru who was either on a creative streak or down in the dumps about her husband's cheating problem, and also as a busboy at a new coffee shop down the street. It was a struggle having so much to do, but they agreed that taking care of their niece was well worth it; not to mention, their lives were more normal than they had ever been, which was saying something.

"Aunt Willow?" The little girl slumped her small shoulders, her curious mind going back to the question she had repeated in her mind all day long.

Willow snapped out of her thoughts immediately and cleared her throat."Yes?" she called from the stove.

"Why did mommy and daddy go away for so long?" Willow turned once more and smiled, feeling the burden on her shoulders grow heavier.

Though Keira knew about demons and some other things they had had to explain to her over the years, she did not know about what her parents did for a living—not yet. Willow was still preparing for the day when she wouldn't need to ask, but would figure it out on her own. She was a smart little girl after all, skipping first grade and going right to second. At that thought, Willow felt a mix of pride for her niece and of sadness for what was to come.

"They just needed some time alone, sweet pea," said Willow. Keira looked at her doubtfully, making Willow laugh. She was such a mature little girl! It was adorable and nerve wrecking at the same time.

"Well. They could have waited until after Christmas. Not only that, my birthday is in two months! What if they had missed it?" Keira whined. She heard another laugh from her Aunt Willow and crossed her arms defensively over her chest.

Before she could open her mouth, a noise came from the living room. The two both stopped and waited, though Keira was expectant and hopeful, and Willow was cautious.

"I'm home!"

Keira jumped up, squealed, and ran into the living room, an excited Willow trailing after her.

When Kennedy dropped her bags and and fluffed her pretty black bob, Keira jumped into her waiting arms.

"Aunt Kennedy!" she shouted, squeezing her aunt tight. Kennedy chuckled and set her down after a moment, greeting Willow with a warm smile and even warmer hug. The urge to kiss and embrace longer was present, but Willow knew better than to expose Keira to too much.

A long minute passed as Kennedy strolled into the kitchen to steal a warm chocolate chip cookie that had green icing decorated on it, from the huge plate ready to be wrapped in foil. Willow lightly smacked her hand away and Kennedy grinned after taking a huge bite.

"We have any milk?" she asked between bites. Keira immediately headed to the fridge and snatched a glass from the dishwasher, pouring her a full glass that nearly spilled over. When she handed it to her aunt, Kennedy grinned, ruffled her hair until it was messy, and said, "Thanks, kid."

"Hey!" protested Willow. Kennedy and Keira looked up, concerned. "It took hours to get her hair that neat!" She grumbled to herself until Kennedy swallowed the last of her cookie and rose, walking over to Willow to place her arms around her waist until she calmed down. Keira frowned and watched the scene with an interested gaze. She rarely saw her Aunt Willow and Aunt Kennedy doing anything intimate, but she liked seeing affection. Her parents rarely did either, which she honestly didn't mind at all. The only two in the family who ever did kiss in front of her was her Uncle Xander and Aunt Anya, and even then her mommy would scold them and they wouldn't do it for a while.

Finally, her two aunts parted and went about the kitchen. Keira noticed every once in a while, Kennedy would stop and put her arm around Willow's waist until she was shooed away, or she would brush her hand over her shoulder lightly, and they'd smile softly at each other. She thought it was cute, but didn't know why.

The doorbell rang about twenty or so minutes after Kennedy's arrival, and Keira heard the door squeak open. She heard the scraping of three pairs of shoes and knew instantly who it was. Again she ran towards the living room, bumping into a chair, but ignoring it and jumping into her Uncle Xander's arms.

"Hey kiddo! How's my little peanut?" he asked, smiling at her as he held her up. She beamed, loving the nickname for her, and giggled.

"I'm great Uncle Xan! But Aunt Willow won't let me open any of my presents." Keira jutted her lip out and sniffed. Xander laughed until Anya came around and twirled a piece of Keira's stray hair.

"Hello Keira. You look slightly larger than the last time we saw you, also very much healthier, I'm sure because Willow has been stuffing you with sugary treats and other foods." She smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. It seemed to Xander that the only other person besides him who received Anya's tender looks nowadays was Keira. That didn't bother him, as he liked that only a few special people could receive such warm gazes from his wife.

Keira turned to her aunt and attempted to hug her from Xander's arms. Anya squeezed her lightly in return and pulled away, leaving room for Dawn to slip by and hug her as well.

Keira's smile grew as she hugged Dawn tightly. "You said you haven't gotten to open any presents, right?" Dawn beamed and bit her lip to keep from bursting out in joy of seeing her niece, finally, after almost three whole months of fighting demons and slaying vamps nonstop. Keira nodded.

"Well, why don't you open this one?" Dawn pulled the small box from behind her and handed it to Keira. Xander gently let her down as she clutched the blue box in her hand and ran towards the nearest seat to open it.

Xander and Anya both took their jackets off and wandered into the kitchen to say hello to Willow and Kennedy, while Dawn stayed to watch Keira open her first present, feeling a little bit smug that hers was the first to be opened before Christmas.

"It's so pretty!" breathed Keira, holding out the plush white teddy bear that had a silver ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. It had a cute smile on its face and bright blue eyes that sparkled when the green and red Christmas lights hit it at certain angles. Beneath the soft fluffy bear Keira caught sight of a small slip of paper. She read aloud what she could, "Dear Keira, Merry Chr..Christmas! This teddy bear came...wrapped...in joy and love, bring...bringing the cheer of the holi...holi...holidays. May your sweet dr...dreams come true as the snow falls and your wi..wishes be grant...granted? And your wishes be granted by can...candle light. I love you very much. Love, Aunt Dawn." Keira stood and squeezed her aunt in another tight hug. She was so excited from the present and the arrival of her family members, and she was growing giddier by the second just thinking of everyone else who she would soon see.

"Glad you like it. I know it's not snowing, but it's still winter, and I thought you might need something to keep you warm at night." Dawn smiled brightly at her young niece and picked her up, carrying her into the kitchen to showcase her new teddy bear, who she decided to name later after her parents arrived.

Dawn set Keira down on the white marble counter top and asked her to tell everyone what she had gotten for her first Christmas present. She bravely stuck her chin out, smiled, and declared that she had the prettiest teddy bear in the whole world.

The evening droned on as such, with Xander and Kennedy and Dawn all having their turn at stealing cookies or chunks of mashed potatoes. Anya and Willow eventually forced them to leave the kitchen, and Keira followed them as they told their stories of the past few months they had been gone, leaving out the gorier parts, although Keira eventually caught on when they paused and glanced her way cautiously, heaved a big sigh and bravely said she wasn't a little kid any more, being nearly six years old. They all chuckled at her, which only make her cheeks burn as she chewed on her lip and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

Around five, a knock at the door came, and this time someone unexpected appeared—her Aunt Cordelia, along with her Uncle Groo, Uncle Wesley, Aunt Fred, Uncle Gunn, and Uncle Lorne. She shouted over and over again as they all piled in, until Lorne picked her up and kissed her cheek, greeting her with a cheerful hello. They all took turns hugging, saying hello, and once making Keira say something that was well beyond her years, like her mother.

Finally, it came time to pack up the food and head out towards the airport, where they would fly to England to meet up with Keira's Grandpa Giles and spend the holidays. The only two people yet to arrive were the ones Keira was most anxious to see. When they were all sitting down in the living room, discussing driving plans and luggage space, she frowned and let herself slip deep into thought.

Last Christmas, they had spent it in L.A. with Cordelia and the gang there. Keira's parents had come home late that night after she had been tucked in, after some long adventure in Iceland, and kissed her goodnight just before she fell asleep, though they had missed Christmas entirely. She remembered the year before, though it was very blurry, when they had spent it here, and how just before Xander and Anya had come home, her parents had showed up. She had been so happy, running to the door and opening it, smiling with delight as her father turned to see her. But instead of smiling back, of picking her up and twirling her around like he always did when he came home, he had walked passed her and into the kitchen, slamming the door shut. That night had been the worst night of her life. Even Anya's comforting hugs and Xander's jokes and smiles couldn't lift her spirit. When Willow finally had emerged from the kitchen, she'd had dried blood on her hands and cheek, and had told Keira that she needed to go to bed, that her mommy was bandaging a cut. As Keira had walked passed the door to the kitchen and into Willow's bedroom, she had seen her mommy lying on the counter, thick sheets of blood everywhere; the floor, the counter, and what hurt Keira most, on her mommy's body.

This year would not be like that. Keira was determined to send happy thoughts her parent's way so that they would come home safely and they would all go to England to see Grandpa Giles.

Another hour passed and Willow came into the room grinning, holding her small cell phone against her ear and mumbling into it. She gestured Keira over, and Keira hurried over with furrowed eyebrows and a curious gaze.

"It's your mommy," Willow said. Keira snatched the phone away and squeaked into the phone, "Hi mommy!"

"Hi baby girl!" came the reply. It was bright and happy, the voice of the person Keira loved most in the world; her mother. Though the reply had static on the end, Keira was nearly in tears from hearing her mommy's voice after so long. "How are you sweetie pie?" asked her mother.

"I'm fine mommy, but when are you coming home?" Keira kept the tears back and the whine from her voice, her hopes rising.

"Soon, baby girl, soon, I promise. We just got off the plane and are driving home right now. Is your Aunt Willow there?" Keira breathed in relief. They were on their way. Nothing was wrong.

"Yes." She paused and said before handing the phone to her Aunt Willow, "See you when you get here mommy, I love you!"

"Love you too honey!"

Keira lifted the phone towards Willow, who took it gingerly and smiled as she began talking to Keira's mother. Keira skipped back towards the couch and plopped down next to her Uncle Lorne and Aunt Dawn, who started asking her questions about her winter holiday not long after.

She was so happy. Her mommy and daddy were finally coming home! But she was nervous too. Did her hair look bad? Was her gift poorly wrapped? Would they not like her peanut butter cookies? So many questions went through mind, until, not but half an hour later, the door creaked open and in walked two people, both smiling brightly as Keira jumped up and ran into their arms.

"Mommy! Daddy!" she cried, burrowing her face in her mother's soft leather jacket and squeezing her father's waist. "I missed you so much!" she said, pulling back as they both kissed her on the forehead.

Her mother smiled, and even though she was worn down and tired from all the demon fighting, she looked into her daughter's blue eyes and nearly cried from being reunited with her daughter after so long.

"We missed you too, love," said her father as he fiddled with her braids and smiled at her. All was silent in the apartment as the three stared at each other as if they had been gone forever.

When they all stood and began shuffling around, everything became chaos. A good chaos, Keira thought, because her family was right again. There was nothing wrong.

The time came for them to start piling into the cars. Lorne was driving to the airport with Gunn, Fred, Wesley, and Cordelia, while Xander was driving with Anya, Willow, and Kennedy, and Dawn was driving with Keira and her parents. It was a bit difficult to pack in so much luggage into the car, but thankfully Xander had a SUV for when Anya would have her baby. Keira looked at Anya as she loaded herself into the front seat. She had no belly yet, but she had announced the news to everyone last month. Keira felt a pang of sadness and selfish envy as she thought of her Aunt Anya's baby taking her place in her Uncle and Aunt's lives, though the bout was brief.

She quickly shook it off and hopped into the back seat with her mommy. Lorne raised his hand to signal he was heading out, and Xander followed suit not long after. After Dawn had started the car and followed Xander out onto the highway, Keira's mother took a crocheted blanket from her backpack and pulled Keira onto her lap, wrapping it tightly around her.

Keira closed her eyes and leaned her tired head against her mother's shoulder as she hummed a soft tune to her sleepy ears. Soon she was asleep, and did not awake until the next day when they were on the plane, already passing over New York. Long after, too long for Keira to count, they landed in England, and everything fell into place, no longer with worry, tension, or fighting.


	2. Le Serpent Pleure

His breathing was too heavy. He didn't like it.

"Conner!" someone shouted. He blinked several times, blood dripping from the long cut above his brow. "Focus!" the voice shouted again. Conner nearly growled with frustration. __Focus, focus, focus!__ That was all he ever did, was focus!

The red and brown monster with black slits for eyes and fangs dripping a yellow liquid that would burn his skin off in a manner of seconds, leaving not even enough to cover the muscle, howled in pain as Conner slung his dagger towards the beast. The smell of vomit surrounded him, making him gag with every breath he took as he lifted his blood covered axe towards the monster's screaming head. With swift speed, the monster moved behind Conner, and he barely moved his feet in time to swing-but he managed. As the monster's head flew off its' boding with a sickening slurp sound, Conner backed away until he was leaning again the walls. Yes, they too were covered in puke, but Conner didn't really care. All he knew was that he was tired, and that he had just won against the stupid snake demon that had attacked Cordelia and Fred.

"Good job." Conner moved his gaze upwards to meet his father's eyes-it was strange, calling him father. In his heart, his still mourned the loss of the man he had grown up with, the man who he had been given to as a gift from God when he was just a baby. But after so much time spent knowing his _real_ father, his birth father, he felt like he had been sent here on purpose. For what, he didn't know, but he did intend to find out, some day.

"Thanks." he croaked out hoarsely. Angel held out a hand to his son and lifted him to his feet.

"Are there more?" Conner asked, looking at the deceased monster lying in its' own pool of guts.

"No. At least, there shouldn't be, unless it laid eggs." Wesley, from the far wall, panted out. He held his sword far from his body, as if it repulsed him, which it did. He stood on steady legs, surprising for someone who had just been thrown ten feet in the air and landed on the wall. He knew he had at least a broken arm, but he would deal with that later.

"Let's hope not." said Fred, who was tending to Gunn's seriously gaping cut that ran across his chest. She looked back and forth between Gunn and Wesley, unsure if she should ask if he was hurt too. Fortunately, Angel came to the rescue and asked everyone if they had been hurt. Lorne remained unconscious near the floor, and Groo, having just returned from his long disappearance, was helping Cordelia stand.

Once Cordelia's fuzzy vision went away and she saw that Groo was holding her up, she nearly fainted again. Instead, she backed away slowly, giving him a half-smile that was mutually awkward between the two.

"Okay. Conner and I will run a perimeter check and see if anything else pops up-you know, eggs, little snake demon hatchlings or something." Angel smiled and motioned towards the door with his chin, gesturing Conner to follow him. He did, wiping the sweat and blood from his forehead.

Outside, Angel went on and on, complimenting and bragging about how well Conner had done. Conner, of course, blushed and smiled, and fell silent, remarking every so often that Angel had done just as well, if not better. Angel ruffled Conner's hair lovingly before they went inside, and Conner was reminded of how close they had come to be in the last months since the hell demon had nearly caused an apocalypse.

When the two were back inside and had locked up most of the doors, Conner said he was going to go back to his place to get the rest of his things, and he would be back shortly. Angel nodded, beaming at his son, and ushered him to hurry back home-_home_ he had said. The idea of having a home, a real home, a real family, was so overwhelming and warm, and Conner wanted it, badly.

After Conner left, Angel went to check on everyone; Fred was caring for Gunn in their room upstairs, he could hear them talking, and Wesley said he would carry Lorne to his room. Before Wesley left, Angel stopped him and said, "You know, you're welcome to come back. Permanently, I mean. We need you around here."

Wesley looked forward blankly, holding up a moaning Lorne with one arm supporting him. He turned his gaze half way and replied without any emotion appearing on his face, "Thank you." Angel took that as a maybe and headed up to check on Cordelia and Groo. Reaching the door, he heard mumbled whispers and then some loud talking. They were fighting, he realized. Or, considering Groo was more peaceful with his tone, she was fighting him. Hm.

"You know, you just up and left without even really hearing me out, and then you just pop back up?"

"I know, I-"

"And that's another thing! The whole thing with Angel-completely blown out of the water! I mean, yeah, you were kind of right, and I was kind of blind, but you know what mister? You could have stuck around to see if I was okay at the very least!"

Then Angel heard sobs-horrible, heart wrenching sobs. He knew it was Cordelia, and although he wanted to step in and comfort her, he knew that Groo would take care of her for now. For another five minutes or so, Angel stood by the door, his legs frozen in spot because he didn't know if he should leave or stay. He decided that they needed their privacy.

Angel strolled towards his bedroom and hopped in the shower for a good long soak in the warm cascading water. It felt good to relax his muscles for a while, and before he noticed, it had been over an hour. He sure was losing track of time a lot lately. Was there something wrong with him? _Naw,_ he thought, he was just worn out.

After drying off, he paced around his room, impatiently waiting to hear the door in the lobby open. He drank at least two cups of coffee before he finally sat down and began staring at the clock. An hour went by. Then another. By two in the morning, Angel was more than worried; he was frantic. Conner should have been back by then. As ten to three came, Angel's eyes began to droop, and he was snoring not but a quarter of an hour later. Just as he began to enter dream world, he jumped awake at the sound of the door creaking open downstairs. He breathed in relief and smiled, knowing he had had nothing to worry about.

He bounded down to the lobby with his semi-damp hair, and found himself staring into the face of his bloodied up son, even more so than after the fight with the snake demon, holding the bundle of a young girl in his arms.

"Dad-" he whispered, before collapsing onto the floor, his blue eyes rolling back in his head.


	3. Aussi differents que la Nuit et Matinee

Conner walked silently from the hotel, making a swift beeline for his apartment. He had already moved almost everything—except the bed and his clothes—into the hotel, ready to live permanently with his father, with his family.

He sighed as he reached the rundown alley leading to his home. He jogged up and opened the door, quickly flipping on the dim lights so that he could see better. True, his night vision was extremely amazing, but he liked having a light on. It made him feel safer.

As he gathered his clothes into one of the boxes that Gunn had lent him two weeks ago, he thought about tonight.

The demon had been easy to slay, and although he had been worn down after the fight, he had recuperated quickly. He smirked. Of course he healed faster than most normal people. He wasn't, after all, totally normal. The son of two demons, never meant to exist. He heaved a sigh.

"Ugh." He inhaled the strong scent of his clothes and nearly choked. _Bath_, he decided.

Conner snatched a clean pair of jeans and a neat faded blue shirt, and also a spare pair of boxers and a muscle shirt, and headed towards the shower.

He didn't really know what to think of showers; they were better than spit baths or dirty rivers, but it was still really strange that the water mysteriously came out of the thing Cordelia had called a nozzle. He frowned as he jumped into the small stall and turned on the water, barely staying in long enough to erase the smell of snake demon vomit, blood, and guts from his lean body. It didn't matter, he would just take another shower later tonight, when he was at the hotel.

As he toweled off, he looked at himself in the cracked mirror; he had gotten a hair cut from Fred last week, and so it was messy, spiky looking, but still just passed his ears, and he had stayed in the sun long enough these days to receive a small tan. Not enough to really make a difference, but he wasn't sickly pale anymore. He grinned at himself, and began dressing, feeling fatigue, a rare visitor for him, start creeping through his muscles. He yawned as he walked back into his room and finished throwing clothes into the box. Just as he sealed it with tape, he heard something that sounded like screaming coming from just outside the window. Immediately, he raced over to see what was happening, gazing around the entire block before catching sight of a figure running down the alley.

Conner used as much speed as he could muster as he ran down the stairs and tried to follow the sound of the figure's screams. They weren't screams really—he couldn't think of what they were. Nonetheless, he followed them, adrenalin already pumping through his veins.

Another scream as he rounded a corner, coming to halt in front of an abandoned warehouse, the same one he and Cordelia had first kissed. A bitter memory, one he quickly erased from his mind, and ran through the open door.

All was silent in the creepy building. He slowly eased through the first floor, perking his ears for any sounds.

"Heh heh heh." came a deep laughter from behind him. He jumped around, his stake in his hand, and thrust it into the vampire's heart. The vampire looked shocked as he turned to dust, but Conner knew there were more.

He paused for only half a second, making sure that if there were any more demons close by, he would catch them off guard.

Again, a scream. This time it was louder, but somehow angry. It must be the vampires, he reasoned.

He took a couple of steps forward, coming to a stop when five figures appeared from the shadows, none bearing any weapons. Of course.

"Hey, it's just a kid, Reggy, why don't we just-"

"No! We can_not_ just leave him alone. He's probably with the girl you idiot!" one vampire smacked the other on the head. Conner prepared his fists and moved into a fighting stance, focusing on each demon's movements.

They were slouching—all of them. As if they were confused, or kind of lost, but they all had that same hungry look in their eyes, the look of blood lust that all newly awakened vampires had.

"And if he's with the girl, then we can use him as bait!" shouted the one, who Conner assumed was leading them.

"Quick question," Conner began, "how many are there of you guys?"

"What—oh, like, thirty? Why do you need to-" the one who had spoke, the one 'Reggy' had smacked, turned to dust before Conner's eyes. In his place stood a shadowed figure, about five foot five and very small.

"Hiyah!" shouted the figure. Conner blinked rapidly for a moment, and then realized the vampires were attacking. At least seven of them came at him all at once, and then another five. He knew he'd killed at least seventeen by the time he was covered in dust. He wiped the sweat off his neck and turned to face the five foot five figure.

_A girl?_

Now, he knew that some girls were different than others—Cordelia and Fred, for example. But still, Fred was more of a smart girl that might happen to throw a punch once in a while, and Cordelia had her share of scared moments. But this girl...she wasn't like that at all.

The way she held herself, that was strange in itself. Her back was perfectly arched, her chin up and her blue eyes narrowed in a glare. She didn't smile—she didn't need to. Her fists were held high, and a band of weapons was wrapped around her trim waist. Conner blinked. He had been wrong; she was at least five seven, not five five. Still, she was really petite around the waist, with curvy legs and muscles peaking through her arms, if only barely. She wore a long plain black tank top with a dark blue jacket tied around her waist, just before her top showed the skin near her belly button, and a pair of jean shorts that rode low on her waist. Her hair was just passed her shoulders, layered light brown with streaks of darker brown here and there, well blended, possibly dyed. Even though he thought she was pretty to look at, his guard was set on full alert. There was something off about her—her eyes looked so angry, but at the same time, so dead. Was she a vampire?

After the girl blinked several times, she put her fists down and crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, if you're not a vamp, then what kind of big bad are you?" she asked. Conner hesitated before he too relaxed his hands to his side.

"I'm a human. What are you?" he nodded towards her accusingly. She smirked.

"I'm not a vampire, if that's what you're asking." She took a step to the side, studying Conner very carefully as she walked a full circle around him.

"But you're too strong to be human." Conner's eyebrows creased. If she wasn't a vampire, and wasn't a human, then a demon maybe? Witch?

"Nope." She said, leaning back on her heels. "I'm just little old me, little old vampire slayer." she smiled at Conner's initial shock.

"A vampire slayer?" he asked uncertainly. Hadn't Faith been the only vampire slayer? Er, well, he's heard of the Buffy girl being one, but Holts had always said there was just one slayer. Now there were _three_?

"Yep. And you, human boy, are just getting in my way." With that, she frowned, pointedly nodded towards him like he had done her, and walked around him, heading for the exit to search for more vamps.

"Hey, I helped you! I killed more than half of those vampires just now!" He grabbed her arm and jerked her around, not using all of his strength because she was still a girl. And it was true, he_ had _helped her. The one vampire had said he had had thirty guys rounded up, which meant the girl had only dusted a little more than a dozen.

"No, you just brushed the surface. If you think that the vamp leader guy was telling the truth about having only thirty guys, you must have hit your head or something." The girl yanked her arm from his grasp, making him wonder how strong she was. "I followed seven of them here, dusted five before we even got near the warehouse, you happened to dust seventeen of the thirty that were already here. Look there." She pointed towards the exist, where some little red dot was flashing weakly.

"That's a locator chip. If they knew that I would end up here, which they probably did, then they also know to send reinforcements—and I'm not talking just thirty or so more. I'm talking possibly forty or fifty more vamps, all together, trying to kill me. I've got about ten minutes to start setting traps around this place before they come swarming in, and if you think for one second I'm going to let some human guy who thinks he's _so_ _tough_ get in my way—"

"They're here." She froze at his chilling words. How had she not sensed them? She turned away and grumbled to herself, taking out her stake and then her dagger. She tossed him a stake, but she realized soon after he already had two.

"Great. Just my luck. I'm stuck with a stubborn, attitude prone guy who thinks he's all that. Great."

"Shush!" Conner hissed. She sent him a glare and crouched a little lower, silencing her angered temper. A few footfalls could be heard, and just as she knew would happen, a dozen or so came piling in through the now broken windows, some from the ceiling, other pounding through the door.

She smiled as a rush of energy flowed through her veins, and the same was said for Conner, though he gritted his teeth and concentrated more on defeating as many as possible instead of the actual thrill. Without seconds passing, the demons started attacking, and Conner and the girl fought side by side the entire time, dozens of vamps being dusted in less than a minute. The girl admitted it, it was nice to have someone by her side, someone who actually knew what he was doing. Her stubborn side reminded her that she worked alone, and he was just getting in her way.

Finally, only about twenty or so were left, though the girl and Conner had dusted over fifty. So she had been right, both thought, Conner with his ego and the girl with her pride.

"We just want the girl." one panted out. Conner blinked but didn't relax his stance in case they saw his defenses go down. He met the eyes of a young boy, who he would have guessed was his age, as the vampire stared him down. "Just the girl." it repeated.

For a second, he considered giving in, letting this fight go. It wasn't his fight anyways, and it looked like the girl could handle herself just fine. But for some odd reason, his fists only tightened and his eyebrows only dug deeper in a glare. Why did he care? It wasn't like he knew the girl—and from her attitude, nor did he want to. So..._why?_

He briefly glanced beside him, seeing the girl had several scrapes and bruises, and an oozing cut on her arm. She barely blinked twice before she staked another vampire and began her quarrel with the next one who came at her. She threw a fist, and elbowed one in the chest, successfully throwing the vampire off its' guard long enough for her to push her stake and dagger into its' heart.

Conner frowned and looked back to the demon who had spoken to him. "Why?" he asked. Again, the thought struck him that he didn't care about the girl. Yet he still wanted to know why the demons were so keen on getting to her. She had mentioned being a vampire slayer. Could that be it? Were they trying to kill someone who killed creatures of the night like them? But why target her? There were two other slayers, to his knowledge. He was more confused than ever. He reminded himself that he could still walk away, he didn't have to get involved in the drama. Something in his gut forced him to stay as he deadlocked gazes with the vampire who had spoken.

Suddenly, they stopped, started backing away just as the girl finished off another of their group. Conner noticed most were wounded, barely standing, but there were still a good dozen or so left.

"We'll meet again slayer." the vampire paused and smiled towards Conner, "young demon."

They bolted, jumping out the windows and broken walls they had come in through, leaving Conner staring wide eyed at the spot the vampire who had talked had vanished.

"Hey, human boy, do me a favor?" Conner turned his attention back to the girl, watching her closely as she started walking towards the entrance, a bored look on her face. "Try not to find me again." and with that, she continued out the door, breaking into a jog as soon as she had crossed the threshold. Conner was stunned.

He shook his head and shoved his stakes into his back pocket as he tried figuring out what exactly had just happened, and why. He had taken a shower, finished packing his clothes, and heard a scream. Then, following the cry of someone, went in to rescue whoever it was. In all truth, he had expected the usual scenario; a helpless girl, a gang of vampires looking for a quick meal. That was almost entirely opposite of what he had found. And he didn't like it. Things had just started growing into a normal routine—he and his dad hunted evil, and in his free time, he saved innocents. Now he felt something—he couldn't really describe it very well, since it was only brief, only a tiny prickly feeling—like his world had just tipped over slightly, and he was starting to shift toward the edge, not close enough to fall, and not tilted enough to slip. There it was though. That creepy feeling that always meant something bad was going to happen.

Conner shook his head and began walking back towards his apartment. On the way there, he stopped and stared through a window of some store, seeing a young girl with short hair, similar to the way Cordelia had hers cut, and a young man that had brown hair and a leather jacket. It wasn't Cordelia, he could see her face, but he still felt a pang of betrayal. She had left him, and right after they had made love for the first time. He had known then that he loved her, with all his being. It had been as if even though the world had been ending, life was perfect in every way. But things never stayed that way.

He glared as the floor, forcing his eyes from the embracing couple, and quickened his pace.

After he had gotten his box of clothes ready to go, he heard a knock at the door. Not very loud, but it had rhythm to it, like it had come from a song. He wandered over to the door, wondering who it could be. He opened the door half way, and what he say shocked him. The girl, bandaged arms firmly crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed in a piercing gaze. Unexpected didn't begin to cover it.

"What are you doing here?" Conner asked bluntly. The girl half smiled.

"I was wondering if you knew anywhere I can get...something to eat." Conner raised his eyebrows at her question, his cautious attitude demanding he say that he didn't.

"Um...yeah. There's a diner, they have good burgers there, just down the street. Take two left turns and then go straight for about a mile." He started closing the door, but felt something get caught in it. Her foot.

"Wait—I—um—well, do you think...do you think you could come with me?" Something was off about her again. Her eyes showed no fear, only blankness, like when she first laid eyes on him. But there was an edge, a sharpness, to her half smile that he didn't like. Whatever she had planned, Conner really didn't want any part of it.

"No." He tried to shove her foot out of the way but she stepped closer to the door.

"Look..." she began, her smile disappearing. "I know I wasn't that nice to you, but I really did think you were just looking for a reward or something in return for helping me, and I wasn't interested. I mean, you've got this whole cocky attitude thing going on, and that kind of made me think you were bad news." she exhaled deeply, and met his eyes with her own guilty ones. They were still blank, Conner noted. Nothing about this girl seemed remotely honest or right, and Conner just wanted to end this day already, to crash on his bed and go to sleep, and wake up and pretend he'd never met the strange girl with empty eyes.

"Yeah, well, I'm not." He tried again, and this time she moved her foot. The second he slammed the door shut, he felt something inch into his mind. Regret? He wanted to scream, but ground his teeth together and clenched his fists from opening the door. He heard her footsteps as she bounded down the stairs, something oddly frustrating about that and making Conner bite his cheek.

Barely two seconds went by before he changed his mind, grabbed his jacket and the slivers of paper his dad had explained were money, and followed the girl's trail. Her scent was familiar. Was it the sea? No, it couldn't be. It wasn't a salty smell, but sweet, light, and like dew or mist, and some kind of flower. Weird.

He followed her until she was nearing the diner he had pointed out to her, since he caught sight of her long before that. When she was within a six feet radius, Conner started jogging, and caught up to her before she went inside.

"Hey!" he said. She jerked around and frowned, putting her hands crossed over her chest like before. "Mind if I join you?" Conner asked.

The girl chewed on her lip and studied him closely for a moment, as if considering if she should trust him. The feeling was mutual, Conner thought. She nodded a couple of times, and the two walked indoors in complete silence, getting a booth near the back, where there was less people. Conner ordered two cheeseburgers with everything on them, a side of large fries, and a medium strawberry milkshake. He almost ordered a chocolate too, but his appetite wasn't that big. The girl, surprisingly, ordered the same, minus the strawberry milkshake and instead asked for a banana split with extra chocolate syrup.

"You have a large appetite." Conner stated. The girl turned and put on a smile, one that made Conner blush.

"Yeah. Always have. You do too." As they stared at each other in silence, Conner wondered again why he had followed her. There must be something seriously wrong with him, like maybe he was losing it. That would be ironic, since his dad had lost it several times before, and he had yet to.

"So...vampire slayer. Care to explain why there are already two slayers, and there are only supposed to be one?" The girl frowned as the waitress brought Conner his milkshake. He sipped greedily at it, slurping down half before he even got a breath in. She looked back and forth between the window and him, as if waiting for something to happen.

"There are already two others? Huh. Guess I must have missed the memo. I thought I was the _chosen one_." The waitress came back a second later bearing two waters and their main orders, asking if them if they wanted to wait for the desserts. Conner was about to protest that he had only ordered his milkshake, not dessert, but the girl quickly said nodded and returned her gaze back to Conner, searching his face. What was she looking for, he wondered.

"But you must have known. I was told only when one slayer dies could the next be...called." Conner's sentences were getting longer. He sort of felt smug about that, but let that thought stray and focused on chewing through his burger and fries. She did the same, finishing half her order in less time than it took Conner. He stared in absolute astonishment at the girl.

"I was told I was the chosen slayer. Do you know who the other slayers are?" she asked after she downed the rest of her ice water that was sweating near the bottom of the glass. Conner nodded once, narrowing his eyes at her. She half-smiled excitedly.

"Well...who are they?"

Conner avoided her gaze for a moment, debating whether or not he should reveal anything to her. What would it hurt? She was a slayer too, right? "The two others are girls from Sunnydale. They're in England now, I think." He paused, watching her reaction closely. If she had been lying about being a slayer, or not knowing about other slayers, he had expected her to give off some kind of vibe, since most people did. If she had been telling the truth, he expected her to gesture for him to go on, because she would want to hear the rest. But she paled, blinked rapidly, and opened her mouth. Not a sound came from it for a moment as she closed her mouth and opened it again.

"Sunnydale? England?" Her eyes widened severely, and Conner looked at her suspiciously. He really didn't know what to make of her.

"Yes." He said shortly. "Why?"

"Because..." her features pinched up as her eyebrows creased and she looked away. The instant she turned her attention back to Conner, her face was a mask of empty emotions, as if she had never showed anything. He could still see some confusion deep in her blue eyes, but he ignored it for the moment. "Nevermind." she exhaled shallowly, her breathing shaky. "Go on?"

"Sure." He cleared his throat. "The slayers are Faith," he smiled at his memory of the rough and tumble girl. "and Buffy." Again, the girl's face went pale, but this time she didn't respond as much. "Do you know them?" he asked cautiously.

"No." the girl whispered. Then, clearer, louder, "No, I don't."

"You act like you do." Conner accused. The girl rolled her eyes. Despite the fact he thought she was lying, her eyes were honest. Did she really not know them?

"Hey, if you suddenly know everything about me, feel free to accuse so easily. But since we only met an hour ago, I suggest you keep your accusations to a minimum."

"You _really_ don't know them then?" He asked once more, studying her eyes more closely.

She snorted. "No." when she smiled again, it was back to the light, cocky girl he had first met, not the serious frown she had just had. "Now I have a question for you, human boy." she frowned again, her eyebrows creasing as she stared at her last few fries. Conner could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought deeply about something. What were those names she had mentioned? "Excuse me, waitress? Could I get more fries?" she asked to a lady passing by. Conner couldn't help but smile, and resisted the urge to laugh. How could she be thinking about food after such a serious moment?

When she returned her gaze to his, she asked her question. "Have you ever heard of Superman?" Conner blinked. He had kind of expected her to ask why he was so strong, so inhuman. But instead she asked about someone else?

"No." he replied.

"You're kidding," she breathed, blinking rapidly as she realized he didn't have a clue what she was talking about. "You don't know who _Superman_ is? _Batman_? _Wonderwoman_?" Conner shook his head slowly as he chewed on a crinkled french fry with ketchup on the end.

The girl slumped back and stared wide eyed at Conner. "Hm." She tilted her head sideways. "I'll bring you the comics." She decided while munching on her burger, focusing solely on her food.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" asked Conner. The girl smiled while she watched her plate of food.

"You seemed...kind of lonely? And I'm sort of new to town. I don't know what to make of this place yet. I thought that if I had someone with me, I wouldn't feel so out of place. I guess I was wrong." Conner frowned. If she had only wanted company, then why hadn't she gone and found someone else to bother? He sighed and sipped at his water, letting his gaze wander to outside the window. Not but an hour ago, he had been fighting alongside this strange girl, and just half an hour before that, he had been fighting his own battle with the snake demon. What a day.

The waitress returned a few minutes later with two banana splits, but when Conner opened his mouth to ask his to be sent back, the girl handed the waitress some of the paper money and winked at Conner.

He ate his dessert slowly, watching the girl as he did.

"You look like you've got a lot of questions. Go ahead and ask." She slurped the melting vanilla ice cream from the bowl and smiled. Yeah, he did have some questions. But really, did he want them answered?

He decided yes, he did, and so, started at the beginning of his list. "What's your name?"

The girl inhaled and said, "Keira." Conner mentally said her name over again, trying to commit it to memory.

"And yours?" the girl-er, Keira-suddenly asked.

"Conner." he said softly.

"Nice to meet you Conner." she paused and bit her cheek. "Can I still call you human boy?" A small color rose to her cheeks, and Conner frowned, finding the pet name a little abnormal.

"No."

"I'm going to anyways."

"Fine."

They both stared each other down in silence, waiting for the other to make the next move.

"Where are you from?" Conner asked, giving in to their staring contest.

"California."

"Qortoph, hell dimension."

Keira blinked for a few seconds. She'd heard of hell dimensions before, but never had she seen a human from one of them. No wonder he had some strange demon like qualities. "Why are you here?" they both asked at the same time. Conner and Keira chuckled, and, realizing that they were at an awkward point between unfriendly and acquaintances, smiled.

"I'm here because I wanted to meet my dad." Conner said. Keira nodded, as if she understood, but didn't answer his question. He waited.

"Oh. Um. I'm here to kill bad guys." Keira bit her lip and looked away. Something in her guilt ridden eyes made him think she was lying, but he didn't say anything. It wasn't his business.

"Is that all you do? Hunt and kill demons?" Conner whispered. She nodded once and took out some more money, setting it on the table. Taking her gesture as she was leaving, he stood and followed her out of the diner. He noticed they were headed towards his apartment, and he remembered he was expected back at the hotel any minute.

"I eat too." Keira smirked, keeping her eyes straight ahead, trained on the dark alley way. Conner chuckled deeply, and the two stopped before Conner's apartment door. "Thanks...you know, for keeping me company, especially after I told you not to find me again. I owe you one." Keira smiled and turned on her heel, strolling back down the alley and turning a corner, disappearing from Conner's sight. Wow, he thought. This was some strange day.

Conner jogged back to his apartment and opened the door, looking for his cardboard box of clothes. Where had he put it? Oh, behind his bed! He frowned as he walked over, finding it on its' side and spilling some wrinkled shirts. He froze, and let his senses take over.

"Told you I'd see you again, young demon." said an eerie voice. Conner whipped around and glared at the vampire, whose black hair was cut close to his head and smile was darker than he'd ever seen on a vampire. He was alone, which made Conner wonder if he was there for a fight or not.

"I'm not a demon." Conner said defensively, almost automatically. The vampire smirked.

"No. But you have demon blood in you." The vampire blinked and leaned on the back of his heel, watching Conner with black eyes like the snake demon had had.

"So what? What do you want?"

"I just want to know where the girl is. I assume you know each other. You fought together tonight, and one of my minions saw you two eating together at a diner. Her scent is still faint, but I can smell it near your door. Ah, is that roses I smell? With a light undertone of rain and moss and...musk. Her perfume must be something sweet and dark. I like it." He paused and closed his eyes. Conner let the memory of Keira's scent back into his mind, and found that the man had missed a few flowers; carnations and lilies, like the ones he smelled at the flower shop down the corner. He shook the memory away, and focused on the matter at hand, mentally chastising himself. The vampire cleared his throat and opened his eyes. "Ahem, but back to business. I cannot understand why she would want to work with you . You two are as different as night and morning. She, a pretty young flower, so full of life and brilliance and light. You, a tainted boy raised only to hate, with demon's blood running through you, darkening you." The vampire sighed in fake sympathy, and tilted his head sideways, gazing at every move Conner made like he was his dinner.

"And if I don't tell you?" Conner didn't actually know where she had gone, but it was interesting enough that this vampire was so keen on finding her. He had to help those in need. Maybe the girl needed his help.

"Then I torture you until you do, and then kill you. But if you tell me now, I'll kill you fast." The vampire smiled maniacally.

"Yeah, see, that's just not on my to do list today." Conner said, pulling out his dagger. He lunged for the vampire, whose face changed instantly, showing the true demon, and the two began the battle of the night.


	4. Alerte non fiable

Keira walked around the moonlit block twice before she came to a pair of vamps feeding on a helpless girl. She sighed and took out her stake, catching one off guard as she drove it into his dead heart. The other one blinked at her twice and growled, just as she threw the stake towards him, landing it straight into his chest. He turned to dust in barely seconds, and Keira felt a little of her tension float away.

"Thank you so much." said the dazed girl from behind her. Keira turned and smiled, ready to deny the thanks, when the girl rushed towards her, pulling back her head and revealing her neck as she bit into it. Keira collapsed limply in the girl's arms, feeling ashamed that she let her guard down even for a moment as world turned into darkness.

Conner was mad. And not just because this vamp was getting the best of him. But because he was slowly backing up to the window, preparing to jump and escape, Conner guessed. It wasn't that he really cared if the vamp jumped and got away, it was the fact that the vamp was _winning _and still wanted to leave_._

The vamp slammed his fist into Conner's belly, catching him off guard after a high kick to the ear. The vamp barely noticed. He only smiled and hit Conner harder. It irked him to no end.

Finally, the vamp stood tall and laughed, backing away from Conner's waiting fists and red hazed eyes. "You fight well. My informants tell me they have sight of the girl, so you are no longer needed...for now." He gave Conner a menacing smirk before he hopped onto the window pane and waved. "Until we meet again, young demon." The vampire's laugh echoed in the alley as he ran from Conner's apartment.

Conner, with an angry grumble, punched a wall and made several cracks appear. His hand started bleeding, and he growled in frustration as he bandaged it up with an old shirt.

As he stepped up to the window and gazed out at the brightly lit city, his mind whirled. Keira had been captured. His first thought was to scream at her, _how stupid can you be_? But he only shook his head and ground his teeth together.

He knew he should just grab his boxes and head back to the hotel. It was almost one in the morning and they would be worried. But his resolve to be the good guy, to save the day, won out as he stomped from his apartment and broke into a sprint as he trailed the girl's scent. It got fainter and fainter the closer he got to the diner, and after he passed a couple of empty, dirty alleys, he only caught it again because he'd seen spots of blood and had found it to belong to her. _Really, she'd gotten herself caught and hurt_. He was starting to really hate her.

He passed street after street, alley after alley, but he lost her scent so many times he wondered if he should even be trying to save her. He'd known her for little more than an hour and had had dinner with her. So what? Did that mean he needed to be her savior every time she got her butt kicked?

He revealed for a second that her pride took her too far and that she _had_ gotten her butt kicked, but then he focused again.

In the back of his mind, his good side argued that doing the right thing was his job, while his darker side, the side that he usually kept locked away with a thrown away key, laughed and said he should leave her to her own devices.

He continued to follow her fickle scent.

Miles away, Keira was unconscious, laying on a cushioned red love seat across from a weathered old man with wrinkles, white hair, gray eyes, and jewels dripping from his person.

As she flickered open her eyes and rubbed her pounding head, she turned to meet the old man's gray, narrowed gaze. "Who the hell are you?" she growled. She sat up, rubbing her temple between two fingers, but instantly regretted it. _Head rush_.

The old man leaned back in his own red cushioned chair, taking his black marble walking stick and placing it demurely on his lap. "You must be one of the slayers. I hear there are many of them now."

"What?" Keira said in annoyance, and glanced up at him. He half smiled at her, a cold, emotionless expression.

"Aren't you a slayer, my dear?" Keira paused. She deliberated for a while if she should really tell him about her being a slayer, but by the look in his eyes, he already knew for certain that she was. She nodded once, slowly.

"Mm, yes, I figured," he mumbled. He tilted his head sideways. "You must be wondering why I had my lackeys bring you here, hm? How about a nice cup of tea first?" Keira didn't respond. She felt a bump on her head and flinched. Carefully avoiding the bump, she surveyed her arms, legs and felt around her face. Only a few cuts and her wound from the fight before had reopened, but nothing serious or damaging. She sighed and sat up straighter, ignoring her protesting headache, and glared at the old man.

"Garcon?" called the old man as she opened her mouth to speak. A young man stepped from the shadows wearing a butler's attire and a face of someone who had just eaten a sour lemon.

"Yes, my lord?" he asked in a deep, scratchy tone. The old man smiled and adjusted the collar of his burgundy silk robe.

"If you please, some hot chamomile tea? And some of the tea cakes that Marie made?" Garcon nodded and departed the room in quick, silent strides. Keira watched him go, but returned her gaze to the old man's as soon as he was out of sight, her wary eyes watching the old man cautiously.

"While we await our tea, would you like my nurse to take a look at that bump for you? A concussion would be most awful." The old man smiled politely. Keira stayed perfectly still, her muscles aching but still tense enough for her to react to anything the old man tried with her. Hey, he was just an old man anyways. What harm could an old man ever really do to a fully trained, well versed slayer? "Joy? Would you please fetch Miranda?" Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a strange looking old maid nod and scurry from the room, a bob of gray the only sight Keira caught after a minute. Not a second later and a woman of roughly the same age emerged and smiled at Keira. She pointed to her head and Keira jerked away when the woman came closer.

"Do not fear my maids. They are all mute and in some way physically challenged. They cannot harm you." The maid nodded at Keira, so she leaned forward a little and tilted her head forward. Her wrinkled hands were cold as she ran them over Keira's forehead, but Keira only clenched her toes and hands and stayed still. When the maid's hands disappeared, Keira looked up and saw the maid leaving. "She says you are fine. Miranda, one of my few younger maids," Keira rolled her eyes, but he continued, "has studied the art of fortune telling when she was young, and though she does not tell the future, she does have a sort of side view to the present. She can tell when one is injured, extensively or only minor, or sick when there is no other sign of it, and she can also tell if someone is with child or in very much pain. It is a gift really, and though I have only use of her at times when I am ill or hurt, she still brings much life to this old mansion." Keira stared. _Who was this creepy old man?_ She questioned inwardly.

Just then, Garcon appeared with a large silver tray bearing a porcelain tea pot, a small bowl of sugar cubes, one small pitcher of cream, two thin porcelain cups and plates, and a tiny tray of cakes that were shaped in near perfect circles. "Dig in, my dear." said the old man as he reached for a tea cup and poured a good amount for himself, and then Keira. She hesitated for a second, and waited until the old man sipped at his own cup. She wouldn't want to be poisoned. That was a stupid way for a slayer to die.

He sighed in contentment, so Keira took her own cup and mildly sipped at the sugared tea, letting it sink down her throat and warm her to her core. She watched from the rim of her tea cup as the old man set down his own cup, waved Garcon away, and smiled at Keira in a way that made her think of a grandfather, which was very odd. She set down her own cup and scooted closer to the edge of the couch. "Where am I?" she asked.

The old man chuckled. "Blackmill Manor, just a ways north of Los Angelas. Bartholomew Blackmill, at your service." He touched a pale hand to his chest and sat a little straighter, beaming at no one in particular.

Keira blinked. "So...why did you have your men attack me? And then bring me here? And why are they all vampires? Are all your servants vampires?" She wanted as much information as she could get. The more she had, the better chance she had of escaping, and quick.

Bartholomew grinned. "Ah, well, to answer your first question, I asked my men to bring you here because I needed my own questions to be answered. And, I wanted to give you a warning. All my men are in fact not vampires, as it is just my bodyguards and my most loyal of servants. As you can see, none of my maids are vampires, and neither are my cooks, however my butler and several other servants are. I find their company to be rather enlightening." Keira shifted uncomfortably.

She paused. "Are _you_ a vampire?" she asked quietly. Bartholomew stared at her for a moment, and then he burst out laughing, a hoarse croak that made her jump back into the couch.

"No, I assure you my dear, I am not, nor will I ever be, a vampire. I am just a wealthy, lonely old man who has taken an interest in the supernatural. I offer refuge for the vampires who are in need of it, and jobs for those who want them." Keira glared.

"You don't seem like the type of old man to hurt people; why did you send your men out to nearly kill me? I faced, like, one hundred vamps!" she fumed. Bartholomew paled.

"That is why I wanted to warn you. I did not send out that first attack. Rather, that was an old enemy that has been in town for some time now. I did send out the second one, in the alley way. My girl, Virginia, apologizes if she hurt you. She was instructed not to."

"Proof that vampires can't be trusted," she murmured. Bartholomew only went on with his story.

"My two boys that went after you, Norris and Alan, they were also not to attack you, but to run. I suppose that is how things go sometimes. They were good boys." Bartholomew nodded as if he were in a daze, and Keira nearly choked on her tea as she sipped at it.

"You're crazy old man. If you think that vampires are good at all, let alone _people_, then you need to be tested for insanity." She nibbled on a tea cake as she narrowed her eyes at him. He frowned slightly, but he did nothing else.

For a moment, there was silence, and then Keira sighed. "What did you want to warn me about?"

Bartholomew blinked. "Oh. Yes. Right." he cleared his throat. "My old enemy, Isaac Burnstein, is in town. I wanted to warn you that he is not to be trifled with." As Bartholomew gave her a stern look and shook his finger, Keira almost laughed, but contained her chuckle, only barely.

"And exactly...who is this Isaac whatever?"

"Burnstein."

"Yeah him."

Bartholomew sighed. "He and I grew up together in London, England. He was supposed to be a watcher for the next slayer, and I was to be on the council. Unfortunate circumstances diverged us both from our paths, and we became enemies. About fifty years ago, Isaac was changed into a vampire, and I watched as he killed his own slayer. From that moment on, I vowed to find and kill him, but the years took their toll. Not but twenty or so years ago, I was lost in a cemetery, dreadful place to be lost in, let me say, and I was hunting Isaac and his lackeys. I came across an attacked young man who was dying, and try as I might, I could not help him. He became a vampire that very next night.

"Surprisingly, when I went in to attack him, he only sat down on his tombstone and smiled. He asked if he could have one night, to say goodbye to his family, to make sure they were well looked after, and also to forgive his brother for past arguments. I agreed, and as we walked to his family's house, he told me his story.

"He talked for hours, just talking, and always stopped and asked if I was bored or wanted to stake him yet. He joked around a lot, but underneath he was quite serious. I found myself laughing and talking with him as well, though my hatred of vampires ran deep in my bones. After he said goodbye to his wife and two daughters, only by kissing them on their cheeks and whispering something in their ears, he asked for cab money. I gave it to him, but tagged along. During the cab ride, he told me how he had been attacked. Isaac had been his sire. It was only natural that I wanted to hunt my foe down and exact revenge for myself and for the poor young man. But he stopped me, told me that it was wrong to seek revenge.

"I stood there, astounded, until daybreak when I hid him in my estate. After that, he continued daily to try and convince me not to go after Isaac. 'He's not worth your trouble.' he'd say. Or, if I was feeling especially angry or upset, he'd calmly remind me that Isaac _wanted_ me to spend the rest of my life searching for him, to waste my energy on a fruitless game. About a year with him and I wanted to stake him and send him back to his grave for all his speaks. I didn't of course." Bartholomew chuckled deeply.

"His name was James, and he was a good friend for many years. He finally convinced me not to go after Isaac, to settle down and have a few children with a good woman. I did, but James left after my wedding. Ah, that day was glorious. I married a young woman who had been raised by a farmer but birthed by a lady; Clarice Randolph. She was so petite, so gentle. I loved her with my entire being, even though she was well thirty years younger than I." Bartholomew sighed. For some reason, Keira was actually enjoying his story, and her attention was completely locked onto his tale. It was fascinating, but she couldn't understand why she was so interested.

Bartholomew cleared his throat as his cheeks went a little red. "Ah, anyways, after Clarice gave birth to our first son, James returned to congratulate me and also to warn me that Isaac was looking for me. I took Clarice and my infant son and hid them away. A few years went by, and any signs of Isaac were gone. I brought Clarice back to our estate with our son, but she seemed distant and depressed, even after she gave birth to our second son, and later, our daughter. She died when she was thirty five."

A tear slid down Bartholomew's cheek. Keira felt a sad emotion creep up on her and make a lump form in her throat, but she couldn't remember why she felt so sad. She didn't remember losing any of her family, but nor did she remember even having any. That only made it worse.

"I sought out James, left my children with a distant relative, and asked him to distract me from my troubles. He did only because I begged him for days, and to bring me out of my despair, he brought me to America, to New York. Though I was in my late sixties, I still had a wonderful time, when I wasn't sulking. About a month after, I got a letter from my aunt. The house had been attacked and a fire started; my youngest boy and my daughter were dead. My oldest, Thomas, was missing. I became a mess. James tried to help me find my son, but I was so curled up inside I didn't think anything could fix it.

"A few years later, I wound up here, but I no longer have contact with my old friend. Instead, I keep an eye on Isaac and a lookout for my missing son. He would be twenty-nine now." Keira frowned and sighed at his despairing story. She felt the need to console him rise up, but she didn't act on it. Instead, she asked another question.

"He's in town, so you wanted to warn me?" she whispered. Bartholomew nodded once.

"I also wanted to ask you some things about...your job."

Immediately, Keira rolled her eyes. "It's not a job. It's a way of life." Bartholomew sighed.

"Yes, I know."

Silence followed. "What did you want to know?" Keira asked, though she was sure she wasn't going to be so willing to spill her guts to the old guy.

Bartholomew beamed like a child getting the biggest Christmas present under the tree. "What is it like? The natural ability to fight and defend oneself?"Keira shrugged.

"Hard to explain." Bartholomew nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I understand. But if you might, would you be willing to try?" Keira hesitated. To tell him might be to her disadvantage. She shook her head. Bartholomew's face fell a little, but he didn't pause for his next question.

"Alright. What about the normal human aspects? Do you have different reactions to different things, unlike when you were fully human?" Keira's face reddened.

"I'm still human old man." she said through her teeth. Bartholomew waved her off.

"Yes, yes, but not entirely. How is it different from being human, to be something more equip to slay demons?"

"It sucks." Bartholomew frowned and his eyes drooped to his temple.

"How so?" Keira shrugged.

"Close your eyes and picture getting the toughest, most excruciating workout in your entire life but not being able to stop no matter what you do or say. Getting attacked by a horde of nearly one hundred dead creatures with some dozen advantages over you. Watching every single person be killed over and over in front of you a thousand times. Never being able to truly love or care for someone, even if you have some sort of feelings." She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "Ever emotion in your body is intensified by ten, sort of like your strength and reflexes increasing, only worse; you're not allowed to feel them. Not allowed to use them. Your only goal in life is to kill things. To murder. To destroy. Happiness doesn't matter, and no one cares if you're depressed or angry or in love; they expect you to save them. To help them be free to keep _their_ emotions when you aren't allowed. Now picture than fifty times worse." She sunk back into the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. "That's about half of what it feels like being a slayer. No more questions."

Bartholomew sat there, shocked and pale, his mouth hanging open in a round o and his eyes wide with something Keira reasoned was pretty close to fear or anxiety. As he closed his mouth, the window suddenly shattered into a thousand pieces and a figure jumped through, careful of the broken shards flying over him. Keira glared. Bartholomew jumped up with his walking stick and hobbled to the door, turning and blocking it, though not from Keira and the person who had insanely crashed through the window, but from his own servants. Keira stared in absolute shock and frustration at the boy standing before her. "Conner?" she shouted.

"Yeah. Come on." He nodded towards the window." Keira shook her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not going with you!" she said defiantly. Conner rolled his eyes.

"Would you just trust me this once?"

"Hell no!" Keira huffed.

Bartholomew smiled at Keira as Conner forcefully took her hand with an eye roll. "Thank you for your time young lady, I appreciate you answering my questions and listening to my story. I trust you'll head my warning?" Conner blinked, but then ignored the old man and jerked her towards the window, jumping out and wrapping an arm around her waist. She humphed, shoved him away and landed on two feet on the soft, grassy floor. She narrowed her eyes at Conner as she stood.

"What is your problem?"


	5. Un cri ardente

Un cri ardente

Keira was not happy. Not in the least.

After Conner hastily dragged her away from the old man's mansion, receiving a punch to the jaw in the process, Keira finally stopped her struggling and managed to jerk away.

They were in a brightly lit alley, rare, but also more comforting than a dark, creepy one. Still, she liked to keep to the shadows, and the light was making her twitch. Of course, so was Conner. In pure anger, that is. "We just meet like, a few hours ago and suddenly you're my savior? PLEASE! You're not even close! Besides, I didn't need any help from you! If you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly in danger." Keira fumed, jamming a finger at Conner's chest.

"Yeah? From where I was standing you needed all the help you get. Being taken out by an old man? I guess you're not _that _strong." He paused, and jammed a finger in her face, mirroring her glare and narrowed eyes exactly. "You think I LIKED saving you? _You_, who insult me one minute and practically beg me on your knees to stick around so you won't be "lonely" the next. I bet you're lying about that too, by the way. Lonely? Whatever. You're just trying to use me to get a laugh. I bet you've got a nice, huge house to go back to, with a nice family, and you're all happy little liars."

Keira flinched, but didn't back down. Her face went red as she ground her teeth together. "You know nothing about me DEMON BOY." Conner swallowed, and Keira noticed then that he was sweating—though she tried to ignore the fact that it was enticing. "Yeah. That's right. I finally figured you out. You're a demon, right? Or at least, half of one?" With an angry smirk, she poked him harshly in the chest, but he didn't budge, to her disappointment.

"_You_ don't know _anything_ about _me_, _Keira_-the-so-called-_vampire-slayer_." he said through gritted teeth.

Keira frowned and tossed her bangs out of her eyes. "I know you're from a hell dimension, and you're not entirely human." she said in a low, challenging voice.

Conner blinked rapidly and backed off, dropping his hands, though not dropping his defenses. He nodded. "Okay. You know a little about me, from what you've seen. But have you even looked past those facts?" His voice became as low and dark as hers. "Have you ever tried looking at someone and seeing who they are, not what they are?"

In reality, Conner knew he was being a hypocrite. When he'd first arrived in this city from the hell dimension, he had only seen black and white—a human girl had been an innocent, a demon being pure evil. It was one or the other, no in between. But now? The world had shifted, revealing a mass explosion of color and things that affected the scales. Not all humans were innocent. Not all demons were evil. In the midst of it all, he'd realized that he, the son of two vampires, an unnatural demon, was also not evil. He had both good and evil inside of him. Yes, obviously, he was still quick to judge, but he was learning. Slowly.

Keira was taken aback. No one had ever been so harsh in her entire life. That is to say, the few people she'd been around her entire life hadn't been.

She shook her head and returned to glaring, snapping out of whatever revere she'd been in. She realized her hands had been shaking and her eyes were wide, but she hardened her heart and bit the inside of her cheek in defiance. "You have no right to judge me." she said slowly.

Conner shrugged. "You're right. We barely know each other. Hey, I just wanted to help is all. See if I care if you get yourself killed."

Keira's mouth dropped open as Conner turned to leave, but she instantly froze when she felt a tremor go down her spine.

"Well, well. Looks like the cat and mouse don't get along. Too bad." From the shadows, a yellow eyed demon stepped forward. "You two would've been a hit." He grinned at them, baring his fangs as dozens more pairs of yellow and red eyes slowly emerged behind him, not giving Keira or Conner the chance to grab their weapons. In the blink of an eye, they were surrounded.

The leader frowned and boredly said, "Get them."

Angel stared at his unconscious son as Lorne and Wesley looked him over. Other than about a dozen scrapes and slowly healing cuts and bruises, he was fine. Beaten up and covered in sweat, but fine. Angel was still concerned. What if he'd gotten some sort of...emotional trauma? Not that living in a hell dimension hadn't already done something to him, which Angel figured he was slowly letting go of. But not knowing what had happened or why, Angel assumed the worst.

The strange girl he'd been carrying was now in Fred's care, since Cordelia and Groo were fast asleep, and Gunn had opted out of being nursemaid. Angel had never seen the girl in his entire life, but something about her reminded him of one of his old friends...and enemies...but he dared not to guess, especially if it was only his imagination running wild, his locked up feeling finally breaking free. He would question the girl as soon as she woke up. He didn't know who she was, and therefore she was a danger to Conner, at least from what he'd seen. Conner may not be the little baby Angel had only seen a few times, but he was still young enough, and Angel would do everything to keep out as many bad influences as he could.

Fred popped her head around the corner and frowned. "Um, Angel, can I please see you in here? And Wesley too?" she bit her lip anxiously and disappeared behind the door to their library. Angel glanced one more time at Conner before he followed Fred back into the library, Wesley trailing him.

Gunn leaned against a book shelf, alert and glaring. He apparently didn't like the situation any more than the others did.

"So what can you make of her?" Angel asked, going straight to the point. Fred narrowed her eyes.

"Gosh, you aren't even a little concerned about her health?" she snapped, but then realizing her tone, apologized.

Angel tilted his head. "Sorry, it's just not on my top priority list right now." Fred sighed and replaced a towel on the girl's forehead.

"Well, even though you didn't ask," Fred mumbled, and then went on. "She's got a fever of 108.9 and rising, she's got about as many cuts and bruises as Conner, but she has two main wounds. I cleaned the first, but the second...is harder. One is on her calf here," she pointed to the leg with the cloth wrapped around, only a few spots of pale pink blood leaking through, "and one on her stomach that is much worse...it looks like someone tried to bite off half of her abdomen." Fred winced and swallowed back her bile, but Angel only nodded, and asked her to show them.

Hesitantly, as if she would be attacked at any moment, which Angel couldn't blame her for, Fred lifted a portion of the girl's shirt. Angel held in his breath at the intense smell of blood that overwhelmed him, but he quickly dismissed that at the site of the strange girl's stomach.

It literally was shredded to near pieces. Red and purple and darker red was everywhere, and although Angel could tell Fred had done some damage control to stop the heavy flow, blood was still slowly dripping out onto the table.

What was worse was that Angel could see lines of muscle past the shredded skin, and he blinked as he saw Fred was right—it was like someone, or many someones, had bitten her numerous times, trying to rip her stomach in half. Little bite marks were everywhere, obviously teeth marks, but not from any animal. Angel swallowed and looked away.

Fred put a clean cloth back on the wound after a moment of staring in fear at the girl's stomach, and then pulled her shirt back down.

"She's...pretty bad. And I don't think her unconsciousness is natural like Conner's when he fainted. She seems to have been out of it for some time. And...despite the look of things, she's healing very fast." Fred swallowed again. "Faster than Conner."

More questions sprung up in Angel's mind, but he decided to wait, if only for Fred's sanity, which he could tell might snap any moment.

"Thank you, Fred. Why don't...you go get some rest?"

Fred vigorously shook her head. "I can't. When she wakes up, she'll probably be really scared, and waking up with three tough looking guys around her won't help any."

Angel shrugged. "Go wake up Cordelia. I'm sure she wouldn't mind filling in until you're...rested."

"Cordelia isn't exactly the nurturing type, Angel. And she's not very blood-and-gore either."

Softly, Wesley turned to her from his position near the strange girl as he tried to examine some mark on her leg, and said, "Neither are you."

Fred gave him a sad look but argued, "No. She'll need comfort. I should be here." She gazed at Angel sternly, pleading, begging him to understand, but it was Gunn who came to her rescue.

"Fred's right, she is a better choice to stay and be here when the girl wakes up. But, for this situation, I think it calls for someone else. Someone battle hardened. "The slayer."

Angel and Wesley, both having more experience with the slayers, and Fred all turned and gaped at Gunn.

"I'm battle hardened," muttered Fred weakly. Gunn gave her a disbelieving look, to which she blushed at.

Wesley cleared his throat. "The slayer? Do you mean Faith?"

"Not Buffy." said Angel through his teeth. Despite his emotional turmoil towards her, he did not want her here. It would only complicate things even more than they already were.

Wesley blinked at Angel but ignored his comment. "I have to agree with Gunn. Having a slayer here might make things a bit simpler, especially since this girl is obviously human, but also not. Either of them could provide some insight as to what she is, and also add some extra protection in case she's...evil."

Gunn nodded, grudgingly agreeing with Wesley. Before he could comment again though, Wesley went on. "But I also think that it should be the two of them, together. They're the first two slayers of this generation, after all, and I think both of them together would give a set of two very different opinions. A maybe they could bring some of the potentials—er slayers in training, and also Willow. I have a feeling we'll need a witch for this."

Angel frowned angrily. "No. No Buffy. Faith and the others is fine, but no Buffy."

Wesley turned in annoyance to Angel. "Your little banters and drama with Buffy is of no importance right now, Angel. Deal with your own issues later. This girl may need our help."

He pointed to the mark on her leg, which almost resembled a tattoo, but was much too dark to be ink. "That is a mark of the Powers That Be. But it isn't one that's so common. It looks ancient, and it also resembles a symbol in witchcraft, though not entirely. We need all the help we can get."

Angel glared but nodded, and with one last look at the strange girl, who he narrowed his eyes at accusingly, he stormed from the room.

Fred gulped. "I guess I'll call the girls."

Buffy was in the middle of yet another argument. This one involved Faith's ill-considered speech to one of the slayers in the 2nd year class. The poor girl was in tears, and Buffy didn't know the way to console her. Faith, naively, had just lashed out at her, and though Buffy understood how tough they had to be on the girls, she knew when she was going too far. Faith had gone _way_ too far this time.

"And really, did you have to tell her all of your little adventures with guys you've slept with? She's already got self-confidence issues to deal with, and you are so not helping Faith!" she shouted. Out of breath, both of them, from raging on and on, throwing every curse word and mistake they'd made at each other.

In the background, Giles shook his head and wondered how they would survive the trip to China next week.

Then, suddenly, the phone rang. Giles immediately went for it, and lifting it to his ear, his cheerfully greeted the caller. His happy-go-lucky smile disappeared quickly as he heard Fred's voice on the other line, gravely asking to talk to Buffy or Faith.

Hearing their names, the two quarreling girls ran at the phone before Giles could react, and tumbled for it before Buffy won out and panted out a curious hello.

"Buffy?" Fred asked, her voice strained. Buffy could tell something was wrong.

"Hey Fred, what's up?" she smacked away Faith's hands as the other girl reached for the phone.

On the other end, Buffy heard Fred struggling with her words. Then, finally, "We need your help Buffy."

Faith and Buffy both froze, but Buffy managed to get out a response without sounding worried. She instantly went into deep tone slayer mode. "What is it?"

"There's a girl here...and she's got this...marking...and some pretty bad wounds. We need you, Faith and Willow over here as soon as possible. She's pretty bad, and we think she's either demon or something, because her wound looks like it would kill a normal person, but she's still alive."

Buffy breathed out in relief. No end of the world mess, at least not now. Thank God.

"Okay." Buffy nodded to herself and then looked to Faith, who nodded as well. "We'll be there quick as we can." She moved to hang up, but Fred went on. "Wait, Buffy, could you bring a few of the potential slayers? I think they could get a good experience out of this and it wouldn't hurt to have a few extra muscle around here."

Buffy grinned. Angel, Gunn and Wesley, not enough muscle? Hm.

"Yeah, we can bring some of the girls." she refused to call them potentials anymore. It wasn't an accurate statement, ever since Willow cast the slayer spell.

"Thanks. Oh, and, please hurry."

Buffy hung up and both she and Faith explained to Giles what was happening. He agreed to stay behind along with Xander and Kennedy, both teachers.

While Faith went to make plans for an immediate flight and pack, Buffy hurried to find Willow and the few slayers she knew she could trust on this.

After finding Willow, who hesitantly agreed to go along with the plan, Buffy caught up with her most trusted slayers—Anna, a just turned eighteen year old with half a years experience with Buffy in the field, Jocelyn, a twenty-two year old Latina who was one of the potentials who fought beside Buffy in Sunnydale, and Marta, a sixteen year old German-Norwegian girl with almost three and a half years as a potential, and now one as a slayer. Surprisingly, Kennedy was with them, helping them study a specific combat move. Not having time to convince Kennedy to stay behind, she agreed that another slayer wouldn't hurt, though she doubted they would need six slayers altogether. Just one or two alone could some damage, even untrained. Still, Buffy liked to be prepared, and the bigger her group, the more likely she'd beat back some evil.

Together, Buffy, the five slayers, and Willow all grabbed their luggage and drove to the airport, jumping on the closest flight and waiting for the long, torturous hours to end.

During the flight, Buffy felt an odd feeling swirl around in her gut, not completely bad, but something she was supposed to expect. Almost like deja vu, except she already knew it was going to happen. Ignoring her gut was always something she tried to avoid, but as the flight went on, the feeling went away and slipped her mind entirely.

Arriving in L.A., Buffy buried all feelings from the past that she knew would rise up during this trip. Not this time. She would bury them so far down that even the most powerful emotion couldn't stir. That was the way it should be.

Wesley showed up to drive them to the hotel, explaining some recent events that the gang had missed while in England.

"We bought back the hotel last week, though Angel still prefers his office at Wolfram and Hart. I think the others miss it as well, but the hotel is sort of...a last resort on our attempt to return things to normal. As you know, Faith and Willow, Conner somehow...came back to us."

Buffy frowned. She'd heard that name somewhere...Oh. Angel's son.

"...and Groo came back today as well. Seems he and Cordelia have been inseparable since." Wesley smirked. "Now, about the girl."

"Hold your horses, Wes, let's wait till we actually see the girl before we talk about her. You wanted an unbiased mind, yeah? Well then, ya gotta have a little faith in us." Faith smirked cockily from the back seat. Buffy turned and rolled her eyes as Faith's dramatics, but turned back to face the road before Faith could respond.

The hotel appeared with minutes, and it was a sight to see. Obviously, there had been several repairs and remodeling done, just on the outside. It now fit into the scenery of city life around it almost perfectly. The old sign was gone, and the foliage looked half-dead, but someone was probably trying to revive them. It didn't feel like home, but it was a familiar memory for Willow, Faith, and Buffy.

Wesley quickly led the girls inside and into the library, where Wesley was surprised to find the strange girl, and Conner, both on separate gurneys.

Fred greeted the girls and tried to explain. "We have to take her to Wolfram and Hart's lab. She's...well, she's getting worse. Whatever healing she'd been doing started going backwards when that mark on her leg started...burning." Fred wrinkled her nose.

Willow stepped forward, first examining Conner, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and then the girl. Seeing that Fred wasn't lying, the mark was burning, and it was red. Like it was on fire.

Through the searing edges, Willow could tell Wesley's assumption it was old was right, though she knew instantly from her gut that it was a witch symbol, though close to the Power That Be. She turned away from the girl, not cringing at the sight of blood on her shirt, and frowned.

"It's definitely a witch symbol, and it's way older than ancient. It looks like it was made fairly recent though, and that isn't a very promising sign. It could either mean the mark is giving its last hurrah or that it's barely begun to work it's magic." Willow swallowed. "I'll do some research tonight and see what I can dig up, but until then, you'll need to put a protection spell around her. It will keep her asleep and in less pain until I can find a way to remove the mark."

Buffy and Faith nodded. "We'll escort her to Wolfram and Hart, and Will, you and the others should probably stay here to help with the research."

Willow nodded, but protests came from the others.

"I want to go with," said Fred valiantly.

"I think you'll need another pair of eyes...and some muscle." said Gunn, giving Fred a worried look.

Buffy frowned. "I think that six slayers will be muscle enough, and we honestly are just going to stand around." Not a total lie. Some of the slayers would be posted as bodyguards, but Buffy knew Will would need her to do some scouting around the murkier parts of town, figure out if anyone knew anything.

Wesley suddenly looked up. "The library has much more resources at Wolfram and Hart. We should all go, that way we can stay together and be in closer connect in case we find anything."

From the corner, Lorna yawned. "Yeah, and you'll also need a helpful demon around. That's me, of course."

Buffy sighed. "Fine. We'll all go."

"But we need to hurry." Willow said loudly, turning to face the strange girl.

The girl was whimpering and sweating as she tossed around, and the mark was starting to emit wisps of smoke now and then. Everyone froze as the girl suddenly started screaming, and Willow frantically ran from the room to gather ingredient for a strong protection spell.

Just as the girl began screaming louder, Conner jumped from his gurney, turning in anxious concern to the girl. "What happened?" he asked, turning to Angel, giving everyone barely a moment's surprised glance.

The girl continued to scream, but Angel spoke above her. "That's what we're trying to figure out."

As Willow came back into the room, black liquid began dripping from the girl's body, and if it was even possible, the girl thrashed and screamed horribly louder than before.


End file.
